


second chances

by disgracedwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel-centric, Gen, Kind of introspection, Post-Episode: s10e20 Angel Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:57:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4551393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgracedwings/pseuds/disgracedwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's been long promised that one simply needs to bathe in water and they will be forgotten of their sins, by buying a house on maine's coastline, castiel discovers it to be true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	second chances

**Author's Note:**

> written purely out of the desire to appease my haunted house/seaside/castiel aesthetic and because i wish my child had friends.

Castiel hears warnings about the old house. Whispers when he goes into town following him through store aisles, worried residents of this seaside town he had chosen to call home. Is heeded by the realtor, obligated to give full disclosure. He just smiles assuredly when an older women grabs his arm on the street, asks if he's the man who bought  _it_  several miles out of town. Calm, Castiel tells her yes, asks her not to worry for him. She prays for him regardless.

Truthfully, he had bought the centuries-old house knowing he wouldn't be the sole occupant.

He had passed by it one day, driving up the East Coast shortly after Claire had left for Jody's. He prefers driving along water, feels as though just being near the element refreshes him, as though its purity can reach out and wash over him. After recent events he had needed some time away from everything, some time to replenish, to cleanse.

Somewhere near Maine, Castiel had been struck by pure loneliness, not his own, he'd learned to ignore that constant ache years ago, but someone else's. Driven by understanding and an innate need to help, he followed this beings sorrow, a trail that lead him to a hidden path. The beer bottles and cigarettes strewn around let him know it was not forgotten, but ignored. Castiel had followed the path, made his way through the plants weaving themselves into the trail, claiming it as their own, and ended up at the rundown estate. Eye catching a movement in one of the many hollow windows, he had made his way inside, intent on helping, on saving if need be.

Standing in the middle of a large entryway surrounded by dusty furniture masked as ghosts, he had stared up, up at someone on the gnarled staircase.

Her name is Annabelle. 

 _Was_ Annabelle, as she'd so stubbornly corrected him their first meeting. Castiel had given her a sad, knowing smile and replied simply with, "I had a sister named Anna."

That's how it started, the eternally young girl had taken a liking to Castiel, thought he was strange. Castiel never mentioned what brought him there in the first place. He stayed there the rest of the day talking to her, learning her history; the more she spoke the more that initial pull of loneliness gave way. He had bought the house a month later.

He starts working on the house right away, bringing in yellows and light blues and greens, works hours restoring the old wood, replacing floor boards and sanding down the porch; there's only one room Castiel never touches, he never even opens the door. Annabelle, for her part, is always lying around, giving her opinion on his progress, asking questions about his life; Castiel thinks it's pleasant.

Annabelle never really asks what Castiel is, why he never seems to sleep, why he's able to see her even when she tries to hide. She begins talking about Heaven though, how she always thought there was one until she woke up one day alone; a seemingly innocuous subject, but Castiel knows she at least suspects.

She throws him off-guard one day, watching him from a window. He's standing on a ladder outside, painting the house shutters a deep burgundy, loves the way the sea opposite him compliments the color, when she asks why he seems so sad at times. It takes him a moment to recover before he goes back to painting, focusing on the deep strokes of the paint brush to consider his answer.

"I miss someone."

"Oh."

Castiel smiles at her simple response.

"Where's the person you miss?"

"Somewhere safe, I hope."

"Do they miss you?."

A pause. "I'm not sure."

Their conversations are always like that, a game of questions. Castiel takes his turn after some drunk teenagers clammer around outside at night, trying to make local myth come to life by provoking a presence they believe to be evil. Castiel's reminded of the many spooked looks and quiet warnings he's received since living here. He wonders if, out of boredom, or maybe grief, Annabelle ever purposely scared any curious passerby's thus prompting a few town horror stories.

Castiel asks her as much that night after he had gone outside and, in a chill inducing demeanor, told the kids he'd appreciate it if they didn't disturb his grounds again. Shutting the door on the world he walks to stand beside Annabelle at one of the house's many windows. Neither of them speak for some time as they stand looking out from within and watch the ocean dance along the sand.

Castiel interrupts the silence. "People tried to scare me away from this house. Did they have reason to?"

The rest of the night is filled with dry tears and in the end Castiel doesn't fault Annabelle for her past, she does the same for him.

It doesn't take long for Castiel to decide that talking to her is like therapy, for both of them, and Castiel feels his own spirits lift, knows that being around Annabelle is the reason. Knows that he likes sharing his thoughts with her, his feelings. It's not just Annabelle though, he knows this, too.

It's this place, he thinks. Castiel is laying on the beach, sand in his hair as he breathes in and out in time with the waves crashing along the shore. Annabelle isn't with him. They still haven't discovered the item tethering Annabelle to this plane of existence, Castiel is beginning to suspect that it's in no way a physical thing. He enjoys his time alone though, now that he has so little of it.

There's a distant rumble and he opens his eyes, thinks about the gods he left behind in the sky. He stares up at it's dark, gray clouds, an overcast temperament that signals an imminent rain, and he sighs, content.

There's a newer god, barely a millennium since his existence, one who faded into obscurity and who lives on only in small circles since the Spanish claimed Western land as their own. This god renewed his people with the rain, washed all the bad from the earth, brought second chances, a way to start fresh with past mistakes forgiven. As the first drops of rain hit Castiel's face he remains still, let's the water slide down the contours of his skin and imagines himself anew.

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't what i was planning on writing, and i'm still not too happy with it, but i'm really tired of seeing it just sit in my drafts.  
> you can find me at [my tumblr(:](http://www.disgracedwings.tumblr.com)


End file.
